Courting Evil
by Mistress Scribbles
Summary: What if Venger were to get his Wicked Way? Short, silly and a bit rude... just like me!


Disclaimers:

1, I don't own the rights to any of these characters, and you all know it.

2, This has nothing to do with how I actually think the series would have gone. I'm just messing around here!

3, The tone is kind of out of sync with some of the content here... Mistress Scribbles most certainly does not condone any of the unpleasant behaviour that goes on in this story, but if _you_ were an eight foot high Evil Overlord, you wouldn't spend your free time knitting or doing the crossword either...

COURTING EVIL

The dragon's head crunched and popped under his foot. He allowed himself to laugh as the surrounded youths reacted in revulsion. At last! At last, after all that ridiculous chasing around he'd been forced to do, the weapons were his. The power was his. He watched the six items fade away into nothing as he absorbed the last of their magic. He could feel it coursing hotly through every vein in his body. He smiled in triumph at the little man... that little old man that he had loved once upon a time, but had long since grown to utterly despise. He'd thought he was so terribly clever, humiliating him by giving the weapons to silly children and talentless youths, watching in amusement as his insignificant young mortals thwarted him time and time again.

"Please..." muttered the old man through his tears, "...please, my son..."

But it was too late. And that wasn't going to work any more. He concentrated his hate on the old man, wishing him dead. And his wish simply became reality.

He stifled his amazement as the corpse of his father fell. What power! Nothing was going to stop him now! The troublesome youngsters had begun screaming, and were trying to run to their old tutor, although his Orcs held them back. He turned to the ragged group.

"And now," he sneered, "there is only the question of what to do with _you_."

What to do indeed... He ran his eyes over them, one by one. Foolish pawns, that's all they were. Stupid, squishy puppets of that disgusting old man... Still, it hadn't been all bad, had it? A part of him was almost sorry that the chase was now over. At times, it had even reintroduced him to the concept of Fun. Perhaps he could keep one or two of them... and he knew _exactly_ which 'one or two' it was that he wanted. He'd known since the moment he saw them... so young and fresh. They had to be virgins still... Yes. Yes, why not? He'd earned it.

He leaned in to his Captain, but spoke loud enough for them to hear.

"I should like trophies. You know what I mean..." The Orc Captain leered in silent understanding. "Bring me the fair one..."

"No!" cried the Barbarian, stepping in front of the pale Thief protectively.

But he wasn't done yet. He pondered for a moment, then added "..._and_ the dark one. They will both make amusing concubines."

The Acrobat stifled a cry. The Orcs began to move in on the group as the girls, now both sobbing, put supportive arms around each other.

He turned to leave. "Prepare them for tonight. Kill the others."

He didn't look back, but walked away, smiling as their screams rose gloriously to fill the sky.

---

The suns were beginning to rise. Morning, already! He lay back, utterly sated, and drew his new concubines closer to him. They had tasted, as he had hoped, delectable together. As enjoyable as taking their innocence had been, the tears had stopped remarkably early on, and they'd become complacent, then practically eager by the end of the night, and he had found that the more pleasure they had shown, the more he had felt. He ran his hands through their hair as they dozed, contemplating this.

The fair one stirred and looked up sleepily at him.

"Lord Venger?"

"Yes?"

"You don't suppose there might have been a... a bit of a mix-up?"

He smiled. A genuine, fond smile. It surprised him. "Certainly not."

"It's just..." the dark courtesan yawned, "when you said 'the fair one and the dark one', we thought you meant the girls."

He looked from one young man to the other. Just into adulthood, both so pure and strong and beautifully different... he'd wanted them both since the moment he'd set eyes on them. What were their real names again..? He believed one was known as 'Hank', and the other as 'Eric'. But which was which? He was sure he'd remember with time. He found himself smiling again at their earnest expressions.

"Now, whatever would have given you _that_ idea?"

---

The End (Or the beginning of a beautiful Harem...) 


End file.
